I Feel Like We've Done This Before
by The Original Amareaux
Summary: *Takes place immediately after the series finale.* Jace has been watching Clary from afar, unable to talk to her, or even let her know he existed. But at her art gallery opening, she sees him for the first time in a year. She doesn't know him, but remembers his name. Could he be the clue to piecing her missing time back together? (Written while listening to Miracle, by CHVRCHES)
1. Mystery Boy

When he nodded, I felt a piece of myself fall into place. It wasn't the whole puzzle, just one tiny image added to the hole left in my life. And that image was of Jace's face. His smile he showed me wasn't exactly what I wanted, I could feel it. His eyes were sad, and he seemed unsure. Almost desperate.

I dropped my hand, tilting my head a little as I stared up at him.

"Who are you?" I asked, quietly, feeling a little desperate, myself.

"I'm-" Jace started, but his next words were silent. He looked around, as if checking if there was someone around us. "I just..."

He shook his head, taking a step back from me.

"We can't."

"We can't?" I blinked at him. "We aren't even doing anything."

"No, Clary, you don't get it. I'm... I'm sorry," he said. His crushed brow and wet eyes proved his sincerity. But what the hell was he talking about?

"But-"

"I have to go," he blurted, then spun on his heel and practically speed-walked down the alley.

"Hey!" I called out, reaching after him. "Seriously?" My hand bumped my leg as I dropped it back down.

I felt compelled to follow him. I glanced back at the door leading to my first ever art exibit, something I had worked seven months to put on. So far, it seemed like a hit. But this Jace… I felt this pull to trail after him, to find out where he was from, why he was so familiar.

Biting my lip, I gave the door one last look. Then turned my back to it to sprint to the mouth of the alley. I looked frantically around, but didn't catch sight of him. Taking my best guess, I rushed along the sidewalk.

A scream came from an alley next to me, making me skid to a stop.

"Help!" a woman's voice screeched, making my blood run cold.

Without hesitation, I jogged into the alley, trying to see into the dark to find the woman. Another scream echoed out at me. Picking up my pace, I went straight into the shadows.

Turning a blind corner, I almost tripped over my own feet when I came upon something I had never seen before. The woman I had heard was bent backwards, being held from behind. A large, ink-black arm was wrapped around her neck, the other around her waist. I could see blood running down the woman's forehead, her brown hair sticking to it.

Her eyes were wide when they found me, terrified as she opened her mouth to scream, again.

"Help me!"

I squared my gaze on her attacker, but I couldn't make out his face from the shadows covering half of him.

"Let her go!" I ordered. I felt my spine straighten and my knees bent like I was ready to sprint at him if he dared to do otherwise.

He forced her to take a step forward, the sight making all the blood in my face drain away.

His face was just as inky as his skin, shining like tar. His eyes were nothing but holes in his skull and he had no hair, the ink covering every inch of him I could see. Opening his mouth full of razor sharp teeth, he let out a shriek that made flinch and cover my ears. But I couldn't tear my eyes away from him. I had never seen something so horrifying. Was he even real?

I glanced to the side, spotting a pipe in a pile of nearby garbage bags. Snatching it up, I held it like a bat and squared my shoulders in his direction.

Whatever the hell he was, he wasn't going to have his way with her.

"Let her go!" I yelled, again.

His lips, or at least the skin around his mouth, curled up like a smile. It sent a shiver down my spine. But I couldn't leave her there.

Taking three wide steps toward them, I raised the pipe, fully intending to club this monster over the head.

His arms came undone from around the woman and then roughly pushing her aside. She cried out as she crashed heavily into the bags of garbage. His posture hunched, his arms out wide.

Yuck, he was covered completely in ooze. Gross.

Gritting my teeth, I watched as he rushed me, and swung with all my strength. I felt the impact, and heard him let out a small cry, when it landed a good one on the side of his head. Using the momentum of my follow-through, I spun and aimed to land a second hit, but just as I was just about to clobber him, again, he reached up and shoved me, hard, into the brick wall of the building behind me.

Landing on my hands and knees, I gasped, but no air reached my lungs. I couldn't breathe. Stars burst in front of my eyes, blinding me. Panic began to shoot up my spine. Managing to make it back to my feet, I staggered, taking my first breath in what felt like forever.

My eyes cleared, revealing the tar-covered face only inches from mine. I would have screamed, but his hand came up to wrap his long, clawed fingers around my throat. I tore at his skin, trying to force him to let go, but his grip was so strong it felt like I was pulling on solid stone. He lifted me off my feet, easily holding me at the end of his outstretched arm.

My mouth fell open, trying to gulp in air. My lung burned so badly that I thought I'd never take another breath. I was going to die here, by the hands of this monster.

My eyes fluttered, my effort to free myself weakening.

I was dying.

At what felt like the last second of consciousness, something inside me flared to life. My eyes locked on this horrible creature and a sudden energy crackled inside of me.

Planting my feet against his chest, I pushed off as hard as I could. To what seemed like his surprise, his hand slipped from my throat, sending me through the air. Without thinking, my body flipped in midair, righting me to land on my crowched feet. I fell to one hand, the other going to my throat. I barked out a cough, but took a deep inhale of sweet, beautiful air.

Spotting my trusty pipe only an inch from my planted hand, I snatched it up and pushed myself back to stand upright.

The monster shrieked, again, but I didn't flinch.

This sucker was going down.

I took a step toward him just as he sprinted at me, and I swung. In a flash, he had ducked and whipped an arm out to backhand me across the temple.

Everything dimmed, but I felt the hard asphalt hit my shoulder. Trying to blink away the fuzziness, I squinted to focus.

A bright light flashed in front of me, followed by a muffled voice. I think he said my name. I could hear a scuffle, another shriek from the monster, then what looked like a thousand red fireflies that disappeared as quickly as he showed.

My eyes closed, everything going completely black.


	2. Lost and Found

The first thing I felt was pain. Everything hurt. My head throbbed and my temple felt tender. Raising my hand, I touched the spot and flinched, which sent a pang of pain through my chest and back.

"Ow," I tried to say, but my throat burned.

"Hey, whoa," a familiar voice said. A hand took mine, setting it back down onto the bed.

Bed?

Opening my eyes, they finally focused on the stranger that had visited my gallery. His blond hair was disheveled, like he was running his hands through it constantly.

"Jace," I whispered. "What... hap... happened...?"

Jace looked down, his body shifting uncomfortably as he sat on the edge of the bed next to me.

"You were... attacked. By a mugger."

A mugger?

The eyeless, shrieking face flashed before my eyes. I jerked back, which wasn't far since my head was planted onto a pillow, another shock of pain hitting my body.

"A mugger," I frowned, squaring my gaze at him. "That wasn't a mugger."

"It was a... really crazy bad guy."

"One who covers himself in black ooze and attacks helpless women?" I demanded, my voice strained. I wanted to sit up to smack some sense into him, but I fought against the urge. It'd end up hurting me more than it would smarten him up.

"Um, yeah..." he trailed. Jace looked away, but he couldn't hide the frustration that lined his eyes. And... guilt? Why would he feel guilty?

He turned back to me, trying to cover his inner thoughts with a smooth mask. I didn't think he realized that his eyes betrayed him. That guilt was still there. "But you're safe, now. And you're okay."

"Okay? Are you serious?" I scoffed, carefully raising a hand up to touch my throat. My voice was still hoarse and my body was so sore I knew I had to have permanent damage, but I couldn't tell where. Touching my skin, I expected to feel traces of that black tar from the skin of the monster. But instead, I felt what seemed like a burn on the side of my neck. The skin was raised and tender.

"Careful," Jace cautioned, pulling my hand back.

I shook his large, warm hand off mine, shooting him a glare. "What is that," I snapped, my voice breaking. I touched the spot, again, tracing the shape. It was like a symbol embossed on my neck.

"It's nothing," he insisted, roughly. "It-"

A knock on the huge, wooden door I just noticed rang through the room. Jace glanced at it, as if deciding on whether or not to answer it.

"Jace, I know you're in there," a male voice came from the other side.

"Yeah," he called, shaking his head. He turned back to me, "I'll be right back."

"Nuh-uh," I said, pointing at him as he stood. "You have some serious explaining to do. Like, now."

"Yeah, I will," he promised, holding his hands out to me as if to calm me. "Just, stay here for a minute."

Turning to the door, he pulled it open, showing for only a split second of a tall man, around Jace's age, with black hair and what looked like a worried scowl. He wasn't happy about something.

Jace pulled the door closed behind him, but hadn't noticed that he had left a sliver of space for their voices to travel through.

"Are you crazy?" the new man demanded. "You know she's not supposed to be here."

"I wasn't going to leave her to die in an alley way, Alec."

"That's why you bring her to a hospital, Jace," Alec said, matching his tone.

"She wouldn't have made it. That demon ruptured her lung from breaking her ribs. If I didn't use Iratze on her-"

"Excuse me? You used what on her?" Alec said, lowly and slowly. I could practically feel his anger radiating through the door.

"Alec, she has the sight," Jace said, his words spilling out of him in a rush. "She saw me at her gallery. She shouldn't have been able to. But she did. I took a chance that the rune would work and I was right. What if the Angels forgave her? What if-"

"No, Jace," Alec snapped. "Once the Angels make a decree, they rarely ever change it."

"Rarely, but they do," Jace said, confidently.

"This is not one of those times," Alec said. I heard him sigh, then his voice softened. "Listen, I know you want Clary back. We all do. But the Angels took away her abilities and memories for a reason. I don't want to see their wrath come down on you, too."

"She hasn't been able to see me for a year. I've stood right in front of her, and she never knew I was there. Why would she have the sight now, if she wasn't meant to? And Alec, she remembered me. She remembered my name."

Alec sighed, again, "Jace-"

"I have to try," Jace said, his voice hard. "Whatever the Angels want to do to me, fine. But I have to try. I can't lose her, again."

"You may be fine with what the Angels do to you, but what will they do to Clary?" Alec reasoned.

The silence was heavy, bringing me out of my daze from evesdropping.

These people were insane. Absolutely insane. They were part of some crazy, religious cult and I needed out, ASAP.

Their voices carried on, again, but I tried not to listen. I couldn't, or I would start to panic. Oh god, I hoped this wasn't some sort of sex cult. Jace was the most beautiful man I had ever seen, but there was no way I was going to be okay with being part of... I couldn't even think about it.

Trying my best to tuck my elbows underneath myself, I began the painful process of propping myself up. I was able to lift my shoulders off the bed, but my arms gave out and I flopped back down. Gasping, I gritted my teeth, trying not to cry out from the pain stabbing my side and chest.

I looked around, trying my best to plan an escape route. The large window to my right had its curtains pulled back, showing that we were obviously a good floor or two up from the ground. So jumping was out. Maybe I could tie together the sheets... No, that was stupid.

The door was still mostly closed, and I think a third person joined them, but I was too swept up in my panic that was beginning to come over me like a wave.

_Okay, Clary, _I told myself._ Get it together._

Taking a careful breath in, I exhaled, trying to calm myself. Panic wouldn't get me out of this.

It looked like the only way out was the door. Right now, it seemed pretty well blocked, so I would have to bide my time. And hope for a break to make a run for it once I was strong enough to get out of this bed.

Spotting an easel on the far wall, I knew I could break one of the legs off and use it as a weapon.

Why was there an easel in the room?

It didn't matter. I couldn't get out of bed, yet, so all I could do was listen to them outside the door.

"You should have seen her, Izzy," Jace's voice carried to me, sounding almost proud. "She fights just like she used to. If she was still a full Shadowhunter, that demon would have been dust in seconds. The way she planted her feet and held that pipe, she's still... Clary."

"But she doesn't know us," a woman's voice said. "You need to take it slow. Don't overwhelm her."

"Don't overwhelm her?" Alec scoffed. "She shouldn't be here in the first place."

"I'm not losing her, again," Jace said, his voice low, almost dangerous.

"Izzy, please. Talk some sense into our brother."

"Well... I don't want to lose her, again, either. She and I were supposed to be Parabatai, before the Angels wiped her memory. We need to see this out, to figure out how much she remembers. Maybe the Angels are giving her memories back. Runes clearly work on her, and she remembered Jace."

"Izzy-"

"And if she has the sight, she could be in danger if she stays unprotected out in the city. We can't just abandon her."

"And what if this is just a fluke? What if she's not supposed to remember, or be given her runes back? I doubt the Angels would be happy about us helping her."

"Then don't," Jace snapped. "If you don't want to help us, then go back to Alicante."

"Jace," Izzy scolded. "Alec is right to worry. Maybe we can talk to Magnus. See if he can get any information about how much Clary actually remembers. And Jace and I can visit the Silent Brothers and ask if they know what is going on."

There was a pause, then Alec said, through what sounded like his teeth, "Fine. I'll ask Magnus."

"Thank you, Alec," Izzy said.

Footsteps practically stomped down the hall. Once they faded, Izzy spoke.

"She remembered you?"

"Yes, she did. She said my name. And the look on her face... she knew me. I don't think she remembered how, but she knew me."

"Do you think she would remember me, too?" she asked, hopefully.

"I don't know."

"Well, maybe for now she should just see you. We don't want to overwhelm her."

Too late for that.

Realizing that Jace was going to come back in, I tried to steady my heart. If he knew I had heard everything they talked about, he might not ever let me go.

All I knew was that I had to get the hell out of here the first chance I got.


	3. Fight and Flight

I stared out of the window, the sun set splashing the most vibrant colors across the sky. The clouds were a cotton candy pink, sitting in a gradient of orange, turning blood red to match the half of the sun still showing. I would have loved to paint it, but I was still trapped in this lunatic asylum.

And the inmates took my clothes. I didn't realize it until after Jace had come back in the room this morning. I was in too much pain to care about it, earlier, but now? Yeah, I friggin' cared. He told me the woman named Izzy, who was outside my room, had changed me, but with people like this, I didn't trust his word.

A knock on the door made my back rigid. I was feeling much better from earlier, but the sudden movement made the soreness in my spine and chest flare up. I knew I should have been wigging about how I was practically healed even though I had the crap beaten out of me last night. Hell, I almost died. Yet here I was, the bruises along the neck and arms fading to a greenish yellow.

"Clary? It's Jace."

Of course it was.

I cleared my voice to make it steady. "Come in."

The door slowly swung open, showing Jace holding a sterling silver tray.

"I figured you were hungry, so I brought you something from the cafeteria."

"Thanks," I said.

Yeah, not going to eat that. Who knows what they might have put in it.

He set it on the table near the easel, taking the cover off. I was surprised a little when all that sat on the plain plate was a pile of mac and cheese, a couple rolls, and a short glass of water. If I were honest, it looked damn good. It even had those little breadcrumbs cooked on top.

"It's five cheese," he said. My mouth watered a little.

It was tempting as hell, since mac and cheese was one of my favorite foods, but accepting food from really strange strangers was all sorts of bad. Though, when I looked closer, there was a fork and a kind of sharp-looking butter knife set on each side of the plate.

"Um, can I eat it in bed?" I asked, leaning on the cushioned headboard.

"Oh, sure," he said, lifting up the tray and carrying it to me. I let him gently set it in my lap, on top of the blanket I still had over my legs. I lifted my knee up, like I was trying to adjust myself to sit up better, making the tray suddenly tip. The glass of water toppled, splashing over the tray and onto the blanket next to me.

"Crap!" Jace said, trying to reach out to the tray, but the damage was done. One of the rolls had fallen from the tray and bounced onto the floor. "I got it," he said, bending down to grab it.

As quickly and subtly as I could, I tucked the butter knife under the blanket along my leg furthest from Jace.

"I can get you another one," Jace said, quickly, sitting up, holding the roll in his hand. He frowned. "And a new blanket."

"Yeah, it's a little wet, now," I said, trying to look innocent. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make a mess."

"No, it's not your fault," he insisted. "I'll be right back."

"Thanks," I said, watching as he left the room in a rush. He even left the door open in his hurry.

Dropping the tray next to me, I shoved off the wet blanket and slid off the bed to my feet. I staggered for a moment, but caught my balance. Butter knife in hand, I jogged on the balls of my feet to the doorway. Peeking around the corner, I saw a whole lot of hallway and more doors. Was it too much to hope to see an Exit sign at the end of it?

Taking a deep breathe, I tried to keep myself steady as I resumed my escape. I must have gone down a few halls before I heard voices. I ducked into a doorway, looking around to see who it was. I didn't have a chance to see their faces before they entered a room a couple doors down.

With my heart pounding, I jogged as quietly as possible past, praying they didn't see me. And they must not have, because I didn't hear any shouting or an alarm going off to alert them I was making a break for it.

Finally, I reached the end of all of the halls, coming upon a large room, a few people dressed in black standing at a few very large monitors. Some seriously high-tech ones. Geez, this cult had some funding. But when made my blood run cold was that they were armed to the teeth in weird blades. They were fighters. If I was caught, I'd have my ass handed to me.

Sliding from the doorway, I headed toward what looked like huge, heavy, wooden doors. They were two sets next to each other, and something told me that they were the exit I was looking for. I didn't hesitate to bolt for them.

I set my hand on one of the iron knobs, about to pull it open.

"Clary! Wait!" Jace yelled. I glanced behind me to see him running toward me from the other side of the room. He looked like he had been holding a blanket, but he dropped it in his urgency. His eyes were wide, pleading for me to stop.

I sucked in a sharp breath, panic hitting me like a brick. I was so close! I just needed to slow him down. But how? The guy was built like crazy and looked seriously fast.

Without thinking, I spun to face him, throwing the butter knife straight up into the air. When it fell back down, I snatched it out of the air by the blade and hauled my arm back to whip it at him. It sailed through the air, going end over end, then hit it's mark on Jace's shoulder. He grunted in pain, stumbling a little, reaching for his wound.

I didn't take time to register my surprise. Turning back to the door, I ripped it open and raced out into the night air. I glanced around to get my bearings, realizing I was outside of the old, run down church about six blocks from my apartment. But when I looked back at it, it wasn't so run down, anymore. It was polished, lights shining in all different colors from the stained glass windows.

Turning my back to it, I headed in the direction of my apartment. I don't think I stopped running until I reached my front door. My feet were raw from them slapping the sidewalk, and my lungs pumped air like I was starving for oxygen.

I patted myself down, realizing that I didn't have my keys. I had left them at the gallery, along with my cell and purse.

Great.

Knocking on the door next to mine, I tried my best to calm my breathing. I didn't need to scare the hell out of my neighbor.

The door creaked open, showing a slightly shorter woman with short, black hair. Her cell was in her hand, like she just received a call. I must have looked like a crazy woman to her, because her eyes grew wide.

"Hey, Dot," I said, taking in one more heaving breath before continuing. "Can I have my spare? I forgot my keys."

"Um, sure," she said. Reaching along her apartment wall, she snagged my key from her key hooks. Handing it to me, she gave me a good look-over. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Just peachy," I said. "It's been a weird day."

"Looks like it."

I nodded a thanks to her, wanting very much to get into my safe, comfy home and lock the door behind me. Maybe even prop a chair up under the knob.

"Oh, Dot," I said, gesturing down the hall. "If anyone comes looking for me, tell them I moved. Thanks!"

"Sure..."

It took much longer than it should have for me to get my door unlocked and open, Dot watching me the whole time. Once I got inside, I heard her door close. I did the same, setting every lock I had. I leaned my back on the door, relief flooding over me.

This was by far the weirdest and hardest day I had ever lived. And I had hit quite a low eight months ago. If it wasn't for Dot, I don't think I would have come out of it.

Tossing my key onto my dining room table, I headed straight for my shower. I need to wash off the crazy as soon as possible.

Pulling off my plain, white, and surprisingly well fitted t-shirt, I stopped when I saw my face in the bathroom mirror. My skin around my temple was still a little bruised, but fading. My lip had a small mark on it, like it had been split but was almost fully healed. I ran my hands over my ribs, most of the bruising practically disappearing before my eyes. What should have been scrapes and cuts were just pale pink marks. They didn't even look like they were going to scar.

Finally, I looked at the side of my neck. That mark I had felt before was there, standing out against my pale skin. I finally was able to see the symbol... rune, he called it? If it was a tattoo, I could get it removed, but it looked more like a brand. And those were near impossible to get rid of.

I looked down at my hands, remembering how I moved and gripped the knife I threw at Jace. My movements were precise, like I had done that exact move a million times. But how? I've always had terrible aim. How the hell did I know how to throw a knife? And when I was fighting that monster... I fought like I knew what I was doing. I'd never been in a fight in my entire life.

Shaking my head, I tried not to think about it. A hot shower was in order, and would help me to relax. Then, I wanted to sleep for five days. And maybe hire a personal bodyguard. But would a bodyguard keep a whole cult at bay?

Okay, tomorrow, I was going to call the police. Tonight, I just had to eat and recover from the horror fest, and get some sleep. I would try to make sense of it all later.

Lesson of the Day: No more following strange, hot boys into alley ways. It ends in lots of trouble.


	4. Dreams or Memories

Blades clashed above my head. My breathing was even, but my heart was pounding. My body twisted to the side, spinning to dodge another swipe from a sword that missed my side by inches. Swinging my arm up, I knocked the blade away with my own. The clang of the metal and the feeling of my hair whipping around my shoulders felt exhilarating. I danced away from my attacker, a smile spreading over my face.

"I'm getting better at this," I said, pride ringing in my voice.

"It helps to have a great teacher," Jace said, grinning at me. He held a sword, strange etchings along the blade shining in the light of the training room.

I pulled a small piece of metal, with crystals at the ends from my back pocket and held it like a pen. Quickly, I swept it over a mark on my arm, the black symbol glowing a vibrant orange and red for a moment before fading back to black. A rush of energy flew through me as I tucked it back into my pocket. My body hummed, ready for anything.

"Does it, hmm?" I asked.

Planting my back foot, I pushed off, sprinting toward Jace in a mock surprise attack. He saw it coming, taking one step out of the way to make me miss him by inches. Instead of turning to try to catch him, I ran toward the wall, knowing he was following me. Without hesitation, I lifted a foot to plant on the wall and took three wide steps up it, using my momentum to flip me higher than any normal human could reach, somersaulting me over Jace's head. I looked down to see his eyes tracking me, rotating his body to keep me from behind him.

The moment my feet reconnected to the floor, I launched at him, again, colliding with his chest and crashing us both to the wall.

"Oof!" Jace grunted, then froze when he felt the cool blade resting against his neck, just over my arm that pinned him to the wall.

"How's the saying go?" I asked, cocking my head to the side and smirking at him. "The student becomes the master?"

Jace chuckled, then rolled to the left, pulling me off balance and taking me with him. Before I could react, my back was against the wall, my blades knocked away and his resting on my shoulder.

"Not quite yet," he teased. I huffed, but smiled up at him. He lowered his sword, but didn't back away. I felt his hand slide down my arm and rest comfortably on my hip. I watched him take a small step closer, his face only inches from mine as he gazed down at me. I knew that look. The heat in his eyes. My body knew it to, making my heart pump harder than training could ever make it.

"Care for another round?" he asked, huskily.

"Not exactly what I was thinking," I said. Reaching up, I placed one hand on the back of his neck, pulling him down to me. Our lips met and it felt like pure fire. Jace pressed me harder into the wall, almost lifting me off of my feet with his strong arms. With both of my arms around his neck, his hands traced my sides, my lower back, molding me to him as we kissed.

Breaking apart, but only giving enough space to try to catch our breath, we locked eyes, knowing what each other were thinking. I wasn't surprised. Most of our training sessions ended like this. There was no getting enough of Jace. I could spend days with him like this, mapping each others' bodies and laughing and loving. It was like a fairytale. And I never wanted it to end.

Taking my hand, Jace pulled me after him, leading me toward his room.

I bolted straight up in bed, gasping like I had the wind knocked out of me. Pressing my hand to my heart, I felt it beating so hard that I thought it would jump out of my chest.

"What the hell was that," I whispered, trying to slow my breathing.

That wasn't... that wasn't just a dream. It felt so real. Like I had lived it, before. I felt the impact of the blades connecting. I felt the heat rolling off of Jace, and my own body reacting to his touch. I remembered his scent, some sort of unique cologne. His taste, his touch. I remembered the feeling of his hair gripped between my fingers like he had just been next to me, laying over me, moving with me. I could still feel his arms around me, holding me tight, making me feel safe and... loved.

Something fell down my cheek, my hand automatically coming up to wipe it away. I stopped, looking down at my hand. A tear? Why was I crying?

Shaking my head, I wiped it away on my shorts and climbed out of bed. When my legs didn't protest, I looked down. The bruises on my skin were gone. Completely gone. Even the scrapes and cuts. It was like they were never there.

Did I dream everything?

Rushing to the bathroom, I lifted my hair to see my neck. My brow crushed together when I saw that the mark was still there. It wasn't as raised, and it was somehow darkening. Like it was turning into one of the tattoos I saw on Jace.

Well, there goes the hope that I was just imagining it all. And the hope that if I showed my wounds to the police, they'd believe me. Now? I only looked like a girl who made crap decisions like not thinking through my tattoo choices.

Fantastic. I had no real evidence and I would sound ridiculous to any detective who would lend me an ear.

I padded back out of the bathroom in defeat, dragging my bare feet into my small kitchen. Putting on a pot of coffee, I rummaged around my cupboard for something to eat. All I came up with was a stale box of cereal, the fresher one I emptied last night still sitting on the counter. Opening the fridge, I sighed when all I was met with was a bottle of ketchup and three-day-old chinese food. And an almost completely empty quart of milk.

Awesome. Thus was the life of a starving artist. I hoped someone bought a painting or two so I could buy some groceries.

Sighing, I shut the coffee pot off. I'd have to go out for food.

Or, I would, if I had my purse and keys. Which were still at the gallery.

Grumbling, I headed back to my room. It looked like I was going to have to take a short trip to retrieve my things.

I dressed in what I called my lazy clothes. A pair of jean shorts and a long, baggy, blue tank top. And since it was late Spring, the weather was nice and I was planning to take full advantage of it. Slipping on my sneakers, I grabbed my spare key from my dining room table.

As I grabbed the door handle, I stopped. What if they were right outside my door? I lifted myself up onto my toes to look through the peephole. Satisfied that the coast was clear, I pulled the door open and then locked it behind me. Before I lost my nerve, I marched down the hall and toward the stairs to the front entrance to the building.

"Clary?" Dot called. I leaped into the air, spinning around.

"Dot, hey," I huffed, then did a little awkward walk back toward her. "What's up?"

"Are you okay?" she asked. I watched her eyes zero in on my neck, but she didn't ask, which surprised me. Dot was always asking me about most things in my life. I was always willing to share, but this time, I was glad she didn't. How would I explain a cult rescuing me from a monster, or demon, whatever they called it, and this tall, hot blond guy marking me with what he called a rune so I didn't die in an alley?

"I'm fine. Just eager to find out if anyone put in a bid for one of my paintings," I said, trying maybe a little too hard to act excited. I was, a little, but with all of the crazy going on, I couldn't fully focus on it. I felt the constant need to look over my shoulder, like I was find Jace standing there.

"Do you want me to come with?" she asked, taking a step out of her doorway.

"Um..." I hesitated. I really didn't want to go out alone, but what if I was attacked, again? I'd end up dragging Dot along with me, and if she were to be kidnapped, too, I'd never forgive myself. No, I had to go it alone. No matter how terrifying it felt. "No, no, I'm good. I have a few stops to make and I need to talk to the curator. But I'll see you later, okay?"

Before she could insist, I hurried down the hall and skipped down the stairs. If I just took enough time to get my stuff, then hopefully some cash, I'd go back home and lock myself back in my apartment. But I still needed food. And I couldn't spend all of my hard-earned money on takeout for a week straight.

Okay. Gallery, then grocery, then home. Simple, easy, quick. I'd be back before I knew it.


	5. Yellows and Oranges

**I kind of jotted this down. Apologies for the mistakes.**

* * *

Walking down the streets of New York made me wary. I couldn't help but constantly look backward, over my shoulder, sometimes even doing a full spin before I continued down the crowded sidewalk. I was only a few blocks away, and had walked this path for the last three months since I booked the space to show my pieces. But now? I was unsure.

It was when I reached the alley where I found the woman and that... demon. The alley was wide and bright, the sun overhead, illuminating the entire space.

Carefully, I took a step toward the mouth of it. It didn't look threatening. It was just another alleyway.

But it wasn't. It was what changed my entire life and everything I believed in. Monsters were real.

Mentally shaking off the cold feeling that trickled down my spine, I turned toward the gallery. I could see the front door from there. I couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief as I picked up my pace, aiming straight for those large, glass doors.

I didn't bother pausing as I rushed in, as if I was being chased. Then promptly scared my sponsor half to death.

"Clary!" Ella gasped. "My word, what's wrong?"

Ella's large, brown eyes stared at me from behind her thick, red-framed glasses. Her gray-streaked brown hair was pulled up into a top knot, a few unruly curls poking free.

I huffed out a sigh, glancing back at the doors. No one followed me through. But was there anyone following me to begin with? Or was I just going crazy?

"I'm so sorry, Ella," I said, turning back to her. "It's been a rough couple of days."

"I'd say so," she said.

I touched my neck, assuming that was what she was talking about.

"Oh, this. No, this wasn't my idea. Not by a long shot."

"What wasn't, dear?" she asked, confused. She looked to where my fingers touched, but didn't seem to understand.

"The.. the tattoo," I said.

"I don't see anything," she said, squinting at me. "Is it small?"

"Um..." I trailed. Could she not see it? Maybe it was best that she couldn't. I didn't want to drag her into that messed up world as much as I wanted Dot in it.

"Are you alright?" Ella asked, setting the large painting she was holding onto the ground. It was one of mine. I remembered painting it, in one of my low moments. Something about it... the yellows and oranges and bits of blue splashed here and there. I felt happy, almost bittersweet every time my brush touched the stretched canvas. And at the center of the painting was a black spot with two parts, one side taller than the other, but as one. Like there were... embracing...

A flash of white made me stagger back a step, my hand going to my forehead. Through the bright light I saw more of the colors. No, I saw... flowers? Yellowish orange flowers hanging from the ceiling. No, a trellis? Light streaming through stained glass windows, casting the two people in a halo of light. I began to hear clapping, whistling. Music. Was this a wedding?

My eyes focused, but I closed them when a small pain stung my temples.

What the hell?

"Clary?" Ella asked, panicked. "Please, dear, sit down. Sit down."

Finally looked up from where Ella firmly planted me, I glanced around her to look at my painting. It was of the same abstract look, the same colors. But now, it seemed to mean a little more. The feeling I had at the wedding I don't remember. I was happy. Happy for the two in the center, kissing to seal the promise they made to one another.

But I didn't recognize the two men. But they meant something to me. Like they were family.

"Clary?" Ella asked, touching my shoulder. I snapped out of my daze to look up at her.

"Ella," I said, then sobered when she looked like she was about to cry. Ella was a bit sensitive, and I suddenly hated that I was worrying her. "I'm okay. I promise."

"Sure you sure?" she asked. "I can get you some water or something."

"Actually, I'm just looking for my purse. I left it here a couple nights ago."

"Ah, yes," she said, rising back up to her very intimidating height. She easily hit 6 feet tall. And to add in her thin frame, she looked like she was almost a wisp of a person.

Ella's heels clicked along the hardwood floor to the bar. Reaching around the side, she produced my purse. And an envelope. I thick envelope.

"I have the money from your sales," she said, marching back to me and happily showing me my things. I set my purse down and carefully opened the envelope. There was a stack of 100 dollar bills in it.

I coughed out a short laugh, "How much is in here? What sold?"

"All of them," she said, proudly.

I looked up at her, my mouth hanging open.

"What?"

"They all sold. Every last one. About five went to different people, but the rest were snatched up by an anonymous buyer. Including this one," she said, gesturing to the orange painting I had been staring at.

"How much is here?" I asked, unsure if I wanted to count it all. I was still waiting for Ella to pinch me awake.

"Ten thousand fifty-three. I double checked. And that's after the rent on the space."

"Thank you so much," I said, smiling up at her. I finally had the money I wanted to use to travel. It had been a life-long dream of mine to go to Paris. Now, I could.

"It has been a pleasure working with you, and I hope to, again, in the future," she said. I could feel the sincerity in her voice and see it on her face.

"Me, too," I said, standing.

"Do you need a ride to the bank?" Ella asked, gesturing to my purse as I shoved the envelope into it.

"Oh, uh, no. That's okay. I'm just going to head home right now."

"See you soon," Ella smiled, patting my shoulder with affection before I turned to leave.

Almost in a daze, I walked back toward my apartment building.

I guess I could order take-out from just about anywhere, now. But first, I needed to get this home and safe. I didn't have a bank account, but if this was going to be any indication, I was going to need one. This much cash needed to be hidden until then.

Then maybe it was a good idea to call to book a flight to Paris, asap. I could get as far away as possible from New York and the cult that lived here. Maybe if I was gone for long enough they'd forget about me. I could only hope.

My shoulder jerked back when I walked into someone. I staggered for a moment, then looked up sharply.

"Hey, you wanna watch where you're go-"

I gasped, leaping back. Jace stood before me, his hands suddenly up like he was trying to calm me.

"Wait, wait," he said. "Please, don't run."

I glanced at his shoulder, shocked when he lifted his arm and didn't even flinch.

"But... but I stabbed you," I whispered, my hand going up to touch him where the knife had been. But I stopped, pulling it back to my chest. He should still be in the hospital or whatever they had there.

"Yeah, I was," he said, like he was impressed. "You threw that knife perfectly."

"That's a really disturbing thing to say."

Jace's face dropped a little.

"Sorry. It's just that it took you a couple months to get the form down to at least through a dagger straight. I'm guessing it was some kind of muscle memory."

"Stop talking like that," I snapped. "You're freaking me out."

His brow knitted together and a frown drew across his lips.

"I don't mean to. I've just been really happy to be able to talk with you. It's been a long time since I had."

"And how long is that?"

"A year, two days ago."

I choked back a gasp, my eyes wide.

A year ago was when I found myself in the park, alone, in a dress that was still hanging in my closet to this day. I remembered it perfectly, because it was the first thing I could recall, after the months I had lost.

Months that, as crazy as it sounded, I might finally be remembering.

I couldn't deny it anymore. I was part of this insane world, hiding below the surface of the one I had been living in. Jace was the best chance at filling it all in and answering biggest question I had.

I wanted to know what happened to my mother.

Dot told me it was an accident, and that I had gone to the funeral. But I didn't remember. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't. But I knew, deep in my soul, that she was gone. It was what pulled me into that dark, cold hole in my heart and didn't let go until Dot finally convinced me to paint my pain. Without my art, I would have never come out of the darkness.

"Listen," I said, pointing at his chest. "You are going to fill me in on everything. You got me? I want to know what the hell is going on. And what happened during my forgotten time."

Jace nodded, an uneasy look on his face. "Okay."

"Okay," I echoed, nodding. Jace gestured awkwardly down the sidewalk.

"After you."

I rolled my eyes, but took the lead. I knew bringing him back to my apartment would show him where I lived. But what choice did I have? I needed answers, and I was damn sure going to get them one way or another.


End file.
